Reunion
by horns-and-halo
Summary: Allegedly, someone has kidnapped a member of the SRU!  Can Team One find the hostage in time, or will he meet an untimely death?   Changed the rating to T for some of Sam's thoughts in Chapter 4; also for safety
1. Missing

**This is set after Wordy leaves the team and Raf joins. Wordy has Parkinson, and, in this story, has joined Guns and Gangs. This is my first fanfic, so feel very free to criticize, as I can only get better. Just try to be nice! If you see any typos, grammatical errors, or something that a character does or says that isn't like them, please please please tell me. If you think this is too short, I'll try to make the next chapter longer.**

**I don't own Flashpoint, or any of the characters (sadly).**

**Thanks for reading, and enjoy!  
><strong>

(Shots of random buildings)

"Listen, sir, you don't have to do this!" Sgt. Greg Parker was leaning against a concrete pillar and nervously fingering his empty holster.

"Yes, I do!" shouted the perp, waving his gun around wildly. "He shot my friend! He shot Tyler!" His unconscious hostage groaned in his sleep, and the offender kicked the hostage's head. It limply rolled to the other side. The subject looked at the hostage, and slowly lowered his gun to his captive's temple. "He can't get away with this."

"Scorpio."

(That thing where a whole bunch of split-second pictures fly by and make you dizzy.) 5 Hours Earlier...

(Shots of random buildings)

"Hey boss, where's Sam?" Ed asked as he pulled his pants on in the locker room.

"I dunno, Ed. He hasn't called to report anything out of the ordinary," replied Greg from the sink. "I'm sure he's fine. I wouldn't worry, Eddie."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right," admitted Ed. He turned to his pants zipper and started yanking on it.

Ed let up on the pants and blurted out, "It just seems odd that he's missing today, of all days."

"Why? What's today?" questioned Raf as he closed his locker and spun around to face Ed.

Ed turned and leaned on his partially open locker. "Well, officer Rousseau, today is Sam's anniversary."

"Anniversary?" Raf looked confused.

"Today is the day when Sam joined the SRU," clarified Greg.

"Really." Raf sat on one of the benches in the locker room. "Now, where did you say he was, again?"

"We don't exactly know," Ed replied hesitantly. He motioned for Raf to follow him, and started toward the shooting range. Raf shrugged to himself and followed Ed.

Greg waited until he was sure that the locker room was empty, and called Sam's phone. When he was sent directly to voicemail, he left a message and hung up. He wasn't sure whether he should be worried or not. After some more phone calls and a few texts, he decided that Sam would probably answer him, so he gave up and went to the briefing room to work on some paperwork.

As Greg was walking down the hall, he passed Spike, who was fiddling with Babycakes. Jules was standing behind him, handing him tools as he requested them.

"What's wrong with Babycakes?" asked Greg en passant.

"We don't know yet," answered Spike as he looked up. "She just quit working on me this morning."

"I saw that she was down and offered to help," Jules said, "but apparently I don't know enough about robots to do anything other than fetch equipment."

Greg nodded, and entered the briefing room. Just as he sat down, he heard Winnie's voice through the loudspeakers:

"Team Leaders and Sergeants, meet me at the desk, please," blared the speakers.

Greg made a frustrated sound and stood up.

"What is it, Winnie?" asked Greg as he joined Ed at the desk.

"Listen to this 911 call," Winnie replied. She reached over and pushed a button.

"I have one of your officers, SRU. Don't try to find me; I'll kill him if you do. I can see your every move. If he tells me the truth, I'll return him to you safe and sound. If he lies, well... let's just say it won't be good for him."

The tape made a rewinding sound and started again. Winnie slowly pushed the stop button. "Is everyone on Team One accounted for?"

"Ed, Raf, Spike, and Jules are all here," said Greg. "The only one who hasn't arrived yet is Sam."

"What about Team Two?" They made their way down to the bottom team. The only one who was missing was Sam.

"Boss, we have to go to Sam's apartment and check on him," Ed whispered to Greg. He nodded, and Ed half-walked, half-jogged in the general direction of the parking lot.

Greg watched him gallop off. He started when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered it quickly.

"Hey, boss," Sam said.

"Sam! Are you okay?" Greg asked urgently.

"Yeah, boss, I just slept through my alarm clock. I'm on my way."

Greg hung up and sighed. He pressed his palms against his eyes for a second, then texted Ed to tell him that Sam was okay.

When Sam got there, Team One gathered in the briefing room. Greg and Ed told everyone about the phone call. The common consensus was that it was just some wacko who decided to pull a prank on the SRU.

Just as they were about to leave the briefing room, Spike's phone rang. He looked up at Greg, who nodded.

Spike put it on speakerphone. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

"Help... I'm... a hostage..." came the reply from the phone. Spike looked at Greg. Greg shook his head and shrugged.

"Need...help..."

Ed went pale. "Boss."

"What is it, Eddie?"

"Boss, that's... that's Wordy!"

* * *

><p>"Wordy, buddy, are you okay?" asked Greg through the phone.<p>

Wordy squirmed and tried to adjust his trembling, tied-up hands so he could hear through the phone better. "Yeah... duct tape... mouth... hard to speak..."

"I get that. Would it be more convenient to text us?" Wordy was sure that right about now Greg would be taking off his cap and pacing the room.

"Parkinson... stress... no sleep... there's no way... I'll be able to text." Besides, his hands were bound.

He and Greg talked a little bit more, and Wordy revealed, through chopped-up sentences, exactly what happened...

_Wordy slammed the door behind him as he walked into his home. His wife and daughters were at a lock-in, and he had taken the opportunity to work late. He wandered to the kitchen to grab a beer and make a sandwich for a midnight dinner. After preparation of his meal, he flopped onto his couch and munched his snack as he watched the news. There had been an arrest by an undercover cop that put a huge dent in the illegal gun distribution in the city. He smiled as he watched the reporters talk about his spectacular takedown. He was the "undercover cop". He had managed to make an amazing arrest without his hands shaking even once._

_He heard a noise in Claire's bedroom. He knew his family wasn't home; what could have made that sound? He grabbed his glock and crept down the hall. As he swung the bedroom door open, he raised his gun. The room was empty. Just as he was about to let his guard down, he got clonked on the back of the head, and everything went dark._

"Hey, do you think you could describe the room you're in for us?" Spike's voice dominated the speaker for a second. The duct tape on Wordy's mouth had fallen off due to all the talking, so he easily described his surroundings. He was in a small, metal room that looked a lot like the one Greg was found in when he had tried to rescue Hayley on his own. As a matter of fact, it had the same table with all the junk on it, the same wall structures, the same-

He heard a sound coming from the other side of the door, and turned to his phone. "Subject coming. I'll leave the phone on."

"All right, Wordy. Just hang tight. We've been triangulating this call. We'll find you, my friend."

Wordy lowered the phone just in time. The perpetrator sauntered in. He was dressed in all black. Black hoodie, black pants, black ski mask. He stroked the muzzle of the gun in his hand with the tip of his gloved finger. Wordy frowned as he realised that it was his glock. How dare this fellow steal Wordy's gun?

"Hello, 'friend'." sneered the man. He slowly stalked around his hostage, then stated laughing hysterically. When he returned to normal a few seconds later, Wordy looked at the man's features, then did a double-take. He recognised this guy! Just where had he seen him before...?

"Do I... know you?" groaned Wordy as he tried to sit up.

"Yes, I believe you do," answered the kidnapper. He slowly pulled the ski mask off, and Wordy gasped. Then all went black as the perp kicked Wordy square in the jaw.


	2. Discovery

**That was fun, fooling everybody. Hee hee! But, now it's time for serious biznazz... notify me if anything said or done by a character is out of their personality. Also, if y'all could report any typos, grammatical errors, etc., I'd be a very happy lady.**

**I don't own Flashpoint. If I did, Lou wouldn't be dead, Wordy wouldn't have Parkinson, and most of the people who've "Liked" Flashpoint Team One on Facebook would have been guests on the show. (Hey, if you, dear reader, are on Facebook you should like Flashpoint Team One. It has many awesome people!)**

**Should the next chapter have JAM in it? I'm not sure if I want to go there yet, but it might be fun-ish.**

**BTW, make my fanfic life by reading and reviewing! Thanks!**

**Enjoy!**

"Hey, boss." Spike tapped the screen of his laptop. "I've finished triangulating the call. Take a look."

Greg leaned over Spike's shoulder to look at the glowing screen. He found where Spike was pointing, and stared at it for a few seconds.

"That's the place where Kevin had me as a hostage!" Greg sputtered.

"Since when did Wordy take you captive in an old warehouse?" asked Raf as he leaned on Spike's other shoulder.

"Not Kevin _Wordsworth_, Raf," replied Ed as he walked up and looked over Spike's head at the little machine showing the location of their friend. "There was a girl named Hayley. When she was just eight, she accidentally shot her addict mom. 10 years later, her boyfriend Kevin kidnapped the Sarge, who happened to be there the night Hayley shot her mom. Kevin thought that Boss had shot the mother, and tried to make him admit it. Of course Greg tried to protect Hayley and wouldn't deny nor confirm Kevin's accusations."

"Yeah, I remember that call. I got really mad at you, Boss, for not telling the truth. You could have died." Jules stated from the corner where she was talking to Sam.

"Guys, could you move? You're suffocating me." The three immediately backed away from Spike, who grinned as he shut the laptop. "We should get going if we're planning on rescuing Wordy anytime soon." Spike waved Sam and Jules over. Just as they were about to leave the briefing room:

"Team One, there's a 911 call for you. He's identified himself as the kidnapper," Winnie announced through the loudspeaker. The whole team surged out of the briefing room in one fluid motion.

"Hello? I'd like to speak to Greg Parker," proclaimed the man on the other side of the phone.

Greg noticed that the man's voice was slightly slurred. He sounded drunk, but was doing his best to cover it up. Greg remembered doing so himself many times, years and years ago...

"_Greg, honey, you've got to stop!" His wife pleaded with him as he stumbled toward the fridge drunkenly. He wanted another beer. That's all. Just one more. One more, to drown out his sorrows in an amber wave of drunken stupor. One more, so he could stop feeling the pain._

"_Lemme be," he mumbled, pushing his spouse away a little rougher than necessary. Dean cowered in a corner, hugging his teddy bear to his chest. Dean knew that bad things happened when Daddy got this way. Greg looked at his son with glazed eyes. He was turned back to his wife. She was the one stopping him. He stumbled drunkenly toward her. She was spared only by the sound of alarm clock ringing, signaling that it was time for Greg to get ready for work. He growled and made his way to the bedroom to stop the noise, then went to the bathroom to throw up._

_When he got to work, he was showing clear signs of being drunker than a skunk. He did an okay job of hiding his intoxication, but when he messed with critical evidence, he was told to take some time and sober up. Instead, he hit some bars and started the long slide to rock bottom. He-_

"Boss? Boss, you need to talk to this guy. See who he is, and why he has Wordy." Ed's words pulled Greg out of his vivid memory, and to the present situation. He picked up the phone and started talking.

"Hi, I'm Sargent Gregory Parker with the Police Strategic Response Unit. What's your name?"

"Never mind my name, Greg Parker. I know that you're coming. *Sniff.* I have your officer, and I know what he did. You need to stay at your headquarters and LEAVE ME ALONE!" Greg pulled the phone away from his ear slightly and winced as the caller started yelling hysterically into his ear.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING! YOU NEED TO STAY BACK! I CAN SEE YOUR EVERY MOVE!" Greg lowered the phone and gave it back to Winnie. He took his cap off again, and rubbed the top of his head with his palm.

"Boss, talk to me. What are you thinking?" Ed looked at Greg, who put his hat back on and looked Ed right in the eyes.

"He's drunk. His voice is slurred, and he sounds hysterical." Greg answered bluntly. It brought back many painful memories.

Ed looked at him, confused. Then he saw the look in Greg's eye and nodded. Memories were apparently eating at Greg's heart, ghosts from the past that had come back to haunt him.

Ed realised that the only way the subject could know what they were doing was if he had an informant on the inside. He trusted his teammates, and knew that they would never give the team away to a drunk psycho.

Ed thought for a moment, then announced, "Okay, let's get in the trucks. Sam, ride with Jules, Spike with Raf, and me with the Sarge. Let's go, people, get moving!"

Wordy groaned. He opened his eyes, and grimaced as he felt shocking pain shoot up through his jaw. He looked around, gathering his bearings, then picked up his phone. It was still on, so he talked into the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Wordy! You went quiet for awhile, are you okay?" Spike sounded worried.

"Yeah, he just kicked me upside the chin. It was enough to knock me out, but I think I'm okay."

Wordy heard Spike say, "Hey, boss, Wordy's back on the phone!" There was some unintelligible static, and Wordy realised that they must be in the trucks, and talking over their comm. links.

"Guys, the kidnapper... I know who he is." Wordy glanced around nervously, checking the shadows to see if he was listening.  
>"Wordy, buddy, you've got to tell us who this guy is!" Spike practically shouted into the phone.<p>

"It's Kevin," replied Wordy softly. "We're at that warehouse where he had Sarge before. But guys, don't come! He said something about how he wanted you to watch me die..."

**Another Author's Note:**

**Okay, so I changed the part where Jules was ignorant and made it a little easier to read. Sorry, all you Jules fans, for making her seem air-headed. Raf is now being the un-knowing one. ^_^**


	3. Intense moments written at 3 AM

**Author's note:**

**Hey hey hey! Just wanted to say... I love it when I get reviews. It makes me happy. And, it helps me to know what to write about. Okay, so the usual... read and review... report spelling and grammatical errors... tell me if I wrote a character's personality wrong... I don't own the amazingness that is Flashpoint... I also don't own the restaurant name M. T. Belly; I found it on a website that I was randomly browsing. I give all credit of the name to the person who came up with it, or the restaurant, if it exists.**

**So, I thought of a different way to address the issue of introducing Kevin as the kidnapper! Should I tack it at the end of the next chapter, or update Chapter 2, or what?**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Greg looked at Ed out of the corner of his eye. Ed was gripping the steering wheel of the Suburban so tightly his knuckles were turning white, and he was staring straight ahead without blinking. Greg knew that Wordy and Ed were good friends, and wondered how Ed was taking this whole Wordy-as-a-hostage situation.<p>

"Hey, Eddie, you want to talk?" asked Greg.

"Hmmph," was the reply as they drove full speed ahead.

Greg decided to let it go, and slipped back into his own world of thought.

Ed was dealing with Wordy's kidnapping the only way he knew how: He drew into himself. He had been doing that for as long as he could remember. After having to shoot anyone, or after having and argument with his family, he put on out an outer shell of indifference and acceptance, while grieving within. He wanted to be strong for the sake of others, but when he was alone he would break down. That was just how he was, and 'talking' to Greg couldn't change that. He just glared at the road in front of him and stayed silent. He remembered many occasions when he had suffered in silence, but one memory was sharper than the others...

_Ed lowered his weapon, appalled at himself for having to shoot a 10-year-old. The kid was volatile and had a gun. The child had already shot 3 people before Team One was called to the scene. There was no pattern to his shootings, and no motive. The team had nothing to go on, and negotiation was a bust. Ed _had _to shoot the minor, he was threatening multiple team members. Scorpio had been called, albeit very reluctantly, so Ed obeyed. He was questioned for hours, much longer than if it had been an adult. When he was finally released, he breezed past all his team members and the SRU counselor. When Rollie tried to stop him in the locker room, he changed course and ran to his car in full gear. When he got inside and locked all the doors, he broke down. Clark was ten when it happened, and every time Ed closed his eyes he saw Clark in that position, with a sniper trained on him._

_When Ed got home, he went strait to the guest bedroom and locked himself in. He wouldn't open the door for Sophie or for Clark. He stayed barricaded for days, just staring at the ceiling, crying occasionally. (During the time of the memory, Ed wasn't thinking strait. He only retained so much from the experience, because of the state he was in.)_

Ed knew that he'd never forgive himself if Wordy got shot before, or after, he got there. Just that thought made him push the car to the limit. The speedometer's little needle was stating that Ed was driving over 120 mph in a 55 mph zone.

* * *

><p>Spike wondered how any of them got to the warehouse alive. Ed was in the front, so he had set the pace for the others. Spike followed obediently, but got to the point where he called Ed on the comm. link and asked him to slow down. Ed didn't reply. Spike thought that Ed actually sped up after the request was made.<p>

Spike jumped out of the car and joined the others. Greg was about to say something, when Raf's phone rang.

"It's a blocked number," said Raf as he looked at the screen.

"Go ahead and answer," said Greg, "maybe it's Kevin."

Spike suddenly remembered that he still had Wordy on the line. He slowly raised his cell phone and listened to Wordy's breathing with one ear while hearing Raf's conversation with the other.

"Hello, this is Raf." He spoke loudly into the cell, even though it wasn't on speakerphone.

"You're outside the warehouse." Spike was surprised that he heard the reply. He realised that Kevin must be in the same room as Wordy.

"What makes you say that?" asked Raf, looking nervously at Greg.

"I can see you. I can see every thing you do. I can tell you don't believe me; let me prove it to you. Greg Parker is scratching his head right now." Spike and Raf looked up in unison, and Greg stopped mid-scratch.

_What?_ mouthed Greg, looking confused. Spike choked back laughter and turned back toward his phone to hide the grin creeping across his face.

"How did you know that?" inquired Raf, a quiver of panic in his voice.  
>Kevin whispered something unintelligible, and Raf looked at Spike casually. Spike caught a suspicious look in his eye, though, and instinctively recoiled.<p>

"Raf, whatever he's telling you about Spike..." Greg trailed off as he had an idea. He motioned for everyone to turn off their comm. links. When they had done so, he explained, "He might be listening through our radios."

"Raf, what did he say about Spike?" asked Ed.

"He told me that Spike was feeding him information via the phone. I looked up, and he hung up on me." Raf looked ashamed for believing Kevin, if only for half a second.

"Hey, guys. Maybe we can use this to our advantage." Everyone looked at Sam as he spoke. "Apparently,Kevin he thinks that if he sows seeds of doubt in our brains, we won't trust eachother, and will be too weak to stop him. So, we pretend to believe him. When we turn our radios back on, we pretend to distrust Spike, and put him in the command truck. We'll take away his gun and his phone; it'll make the illusion more believable."

"How will it help us if Spike is in the truck gathering intel we don't need?" inquired Jules.

"I get what Sam's saying," replied Ed. "If Kevin thinks he has the upper hand, it'll be easier to take him down. Now, how are we going to pull this off?"

* * *

><p>Wordy lay there, oblivious to the elaborate plan unfolding at the other end of his phone. He had given up any idea of discretion, and let his phone lay right in the open. Kevin was too intoxicated to notice. Wordy wasn't the best profiler, but he could tell that something in Kevin had snapped. Kevin was completely off his rocker; he was walking around mumbling incoherently about Hayley and her mother one minute, then a rant about someone named Trevor the next. Wordy decided to start talking to Team One, and wriggled around so the phone was pressed up against his ear.<p>

"Guys?" whispered Wordy.

He heard Greg say something hurriedly, then pick up Spike's phone. "Hey, Wordy, how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," replied Wordy. "I think that Kevin's snapped. He's not acting normal, and he keeps talking about how someone shot his friend Trevor. If he's talking about his friend that helped kidnap you, Boss, then we need to know who shot Trevor."

Kevin looked up suddenly. "Don't you know, 'Officer Wordsworth'? Don't you know who shot Trevor?" he asked sincerely.

"No, I don't. Who?"

"You!"

* * *

><p>Winnie was listening to the conversation through the comm. link, and started typing long before Greg asked her to. She really didn't believe that Wordy had shot Trevor, but she knew that she needed to keep her eyes open. She called the prison where Trevor was sent to after Team One captured him, and was told that he got a light sentence, and was off on good behavior.<p>

_Already? _thought Winnie as she hung up. _I remember what happened that day... Sometimes it's not fair, the justice system._

~~~0.0~~~

Many phone calls and a few webpages later, Winnie had finally gotten ahold of the owner of a dumpy dive who remembered Trevor. He was also the bartender of the joint, which was called M. T. Belly.

"Yah, he was a feisty one, Trevor. Always got into bar fights, he did. Liked to wave the fact that he was in prison around like it was somethin' to be proud of. Never really liked him." The bartender seemed to be slightly tipsy, and rambled. Winnie let him for a little bit, then cut him off.

"Sir, when was the last time you saw Trevor?"  
>"Why, he just left 'round three hours ago, he did," said the barkeep. He started talking about hockey, and how he was a devout Leaf fan.<p>

Winnie took that nugget of information and hung up on the barman, who was starting to slur his words together.

"Hey Boss, I think I've got something," announced Winnie.

"What is it, Winnie?"

"Trevor was last seen three hours ago, at a bar/restaurant called M. T. Belly." Winnie was trying not to giggle unprofessionally at the name of the dive.

"That's odd... If our approximate timeline is even just slightly correct, then there's no possible way Kevin could have heard of Trevor's 'death'... Wordy would have been a hostage already." Greg sounded as confused as Winnie felt. "Wordy must be right... Kevin's lost it... He's seeing things that aren't there; he thinks that Wordy shot Trevor, even though Trevor is still alive."

* * *

><p>"That changes the game plan completely!" hollered Ed.<p>

"Kevin is still competent, and he can still 'predict' what we're going to do," replied Greg calmly.

"Yeah, you know what he told me over the phone," added Raf.

"_I think we should stick to the plan," _stated Spike over the comm. link. _"I'm not humiliating myself like this just for you guys to chicken out last minute."_

"_Spike's right, you know. We've already set the plan in motion; we can't stop now." _ Jules was in the truck with Spike, trying to keep him calm under the circumstances.

* * *

><p>"<em>I'm at white wall, preparing the explosives." <em>Sam stated. Jules was sure that she worried too much about Sam. She knew that if it showed, she'd be removed from the team, but that didn't stop her from being more fidgety than normal. Spike was sitting beside her, fretting about his role in the plan. He sat there, eyes closed, breathing in and out deeply to calm his nerves. Jules was spewing forth comforting words as she worked on the contraption that could either save Wordy or bring the whole team down in one swoop.

* * *

><p><strong>Another Author's Note:<br>Spoiler: I have no idea what their plan is. I hope that I can pull this off. Maybe I've bitten off more than I can chew with this story. But, to gain a lot you have to risk a lot. So, all my chips are in the middle; let's hope it doesn't strangle my story-telling dreams. Well, be sure to make me happy and review! Thanks for reading my little rant of poeticness. Cheerio!**


	4. The plan revealed action finally!

**Author's Note:**

**I AM SO SORRY. I have set myself a due date: Fridays. I try to update on Fridays. But, my life is hectic and insane at the moment, so it's hard to update regularly. :P Well, forgive me please and read on!  
><strong>

**Hello friendly fellow Flashpoint fans! Okay, so... Reviews. Not only do they make me happy, but they are quite constructive, too. Like now I know that it's straight, not strait. (Sorry Canada3dayer, but I haven't changed it yet.) I also have had a (hopefully) wonderful idea! It might work, or it might flop around like a fish on a wooden deck.**

**'Kay, so R&R... notify me with the grammatical/spelling/character personality errors and such. I own nothing; if I did I would be a regular character. Go to Flashpoint Team One's like page on Facebook. Follow me on Twitter (horns_and_halo all the way) Etc. etc. etc.**

**Do you like my flashback moments? Should I keep doing them, or do you think that they take away from the original storyline?**

* * *

><p>Spike was nervous. There was always an edge to each mission that made him nervous, but this was over-the-top. He knew that Toth would be listening and watching, so he was extra careful with his wording.<p>

"This is Michelangelo Scarlatti, stating that any 'betrayal' is fabricated, and is for the sole purpose of bringing down the subject." He talked clearly into the little microphone, and watched the words appear on the screen. He closed his eyes, and felt Jules' hand on his shoulder. He picked up a disposable phone, and typed in the number that Kevin had called Raf from.

It rang exactly four and a half times before Kevin picked up.

"Yah? Who is this?" asked Kevin.

"This is Spike." he mumbled into the phone. "I'm using a different phone, one that they can't trace. So, it appears that you told my team that I'm an inside man."

"Yep, that's right," said Kevin. There were some odd noises in the background, like he was doing something with the glock.

"So... do you actually _need_ an inside man?"

There was silence on the line. Kevin seemed to be pondering the question. Finally, he answered. "Yes, I guess I could use you. Gimme their positions."

This was the moment. Spike could turn back now, and make someone else do it. Greg had told him that he didn't _have_ to be the double agent. Spike didn't like pretending to betray his teammates...

_"Fonzie, what are we doing here?" Spike didn't like being a double agent. It was too stressful, and it was so very hard to keep everything straight in his mind._

_ "Well, mah po-liceman friend, we are here..." Fonzie trailed off as he adjusted a lamp. "Ahem, we are here to discuss yer latest nugget of inside information. Yew know, the funniest thing happened."  
>"Really? What?" Spike asked calmly, swallowing his nervousness.<em>

_ "The cawps just appeared out of nowhere. If'n I had been there, I would've been arrested, or killed. Yew don't know anything about that, now do yew?" Fonzie glared at Spike, and advanced on the rookie, his hand reaching toward the gun shoved into his pants._

_ Spike jumped up and pulled his glock out. His hands were unsteady, and Fonzie disarmed him almost immediately._

_ "Where's yer po-lice friends now, greenhorn?" The leader of the Tigers' Blood gang (Fonzie) was steering a struggling Spike to the door._

_ It was over. The shot had been fired; Fonzie was dead and Spike had blown it. The gang knew that the cops were on to them, so they moved out of state. He had signed the resignation letter that afternoon. Everyone told him that he was moving on to greater things. The SRU had been headhunting him for a while, but he doubted that they'd want a failure like him._

Spike realised that Kevin was waiting, so he swallowed his fear and gave the coordinates. Greg had told Spike to give some real information the first few times to gain Kevin's trust.

"Thank you, mate. I'm sure that you know what'll happen if you lie to me... your friend the hostage will be living in heck on earth, if you know what I mean."

Oh yes, Spike knew what he meant. 'Twasn't too long ago that he had been in the clutches of Monty Glennon***.**

"Okay, I think I hear them coming now. I gotta go." Spike hung up. He buried his head in his hands, and pushed Jules away when she reached a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Jules. Thanks for worrying about me, but I think that I need to be alone now."

* * *

><p>Sam adjusted the explosives, and started to silently creep away from the building. Spike had said that unless Kevin was right beside the door, he wouldn't hear the explosives when they were set off. It was such a small amount of TNT that it wouldn't make much noise. Not much noise for TNT, anyways.<p>

Sam started thinking about Jules. He thought that it was nice that she and Spike were such good friends. But, he was slightly jealous. It seemed that Jules cared more about Spike sitting in the truck than him, handling deadly explosives. All Spike had to do was call the perp and make up some crap about betraying the team. Sam, on the other hand...

He picked up a rock and threw it. Oh, he was jealous. More jealous than he had been in a long time.

He shook his head. No, he wasn't going to get bitter at Spike just because Jules was giving him some attention. But... Spike was already betraying the team...

"_NO!"_ he shouted out loud. "This is what Kevin wants. He wants us to start doubting!"

* * *

><p>Wordy listened to the chaos unfolding on the other side of his phone. He loved it. It was organised, and organised well. Ed was yelling at Raf about something, and Raf was yelling back. Greg was butting in, chastising Raf for being disrespectful. Sam was mumbling something about jealousy, Jules, and Spike. Jules was actually <em>punching<em> Spike, and he was typing as fast as he possibly could, making mistakes along the way, which made Jules punch him harder. It was glorious; Wordy could see how they were trying to throw Kevin off. He just hoped that it worked.

* * *

><p>Kevin chuckled maniacally. He had a radio held up to his ear, and listened to the ruckus going on. He had easily tapped their comm. links, and listened with glee. He had apparently found the right button to push. They were going insane! His plan was working perfectly. He no longer needed the script; he tossed it aside. He was so high he didn't notice Wordy slowly reaching out with his bound hands and grabbing the papers. He just stood there, grinning like the idiot that he was.<p>

* * *

><p>Ed was enjoying this all too much. He realised that he'd have to apologize to Raf eventually for the things that he said. But, for now, everyone knew that he didn't mean it.<p>

( I would chronicle what he said here, but most of it isn't fit for a T-rated story. And yes, I did just break the fourth wall. ;D )

* * *

><p>Greg sighed. He didn't like bickering; it wasn't in his blood. He just wanted it all to stop. But, he knew that this is what it would take. So he argued.<p>

* * *

><p>Spike winced as Jules picked up a piece of computer equipment. He saw the glint in her eye, and ducked just in time. The expensive hardware smashed into the wall of the truck and sent the whole rig rocking. He covered the comm. link with his hand, and looked her in the eye.<p>

"Is everything okay, Jules?" he whispered.

She seemed taken aback, and responded quickly. "Of course! I'm just making this seem realistic!"  
>"I'm not sure that insurance will like this," mumbled Spike. Jules got the hint, and put down the ceramic mug that was in her hands.<p>

Spike looked at his shoulder. He was sure that a bruise was forming. Jules hit hard when she was motivated.

* * *

><p>Sam yelled something into his comm. link. He sneaked around the side of the building, and met Raf at a blind spot in the security cameras. They nodded without a word and set off the explosives. When they heard the small pop, they crouch-ran to the white wall door. The lock hung loosely, and they disposed with it easily. They creeped inside, careful not to make any noise.<p>

* * *

><p>Wordy had finally gotten his trembling hands loose. He rubbed them as he sat up. Kevin was preoccupied with the radio, and Wordy thought that he could easily take the kidnapper down. After all, he <em>was<em> the guy to go to for close-hand combat. But just as he decided to go less lethal and try to knock Kevin out, the subject whipped around and sneered.

"Oh, don't even _try_," he growled. Wordy felt that it was time to act, and jumped to his feet. The tremors in his hands stilled, giving him confidence. Kevin just lazily raised the gun and shot. The bullet whizzed inches from Wordy's face. His eyes widened, and he slunk back down to the floor. Kevin wasn't afraid to shoot him; now that Wordy knew that for sure, he'd have to tread more carefully.

"Boss... Yes, that _was_ a gunshot you heard; no, I'm fine. Really. But, I just tried to jump Kevin, and he knew what I was going to do before I did it. What does this mean?"  
>"Wordy. This means that we need to figure out what exactly is going on. Raf and Sam are sweeping the building as we speak. We'll find you soon, and we <em>will<em> save you."

**Another Author's Note:**

**So... how did you like my belated update?**

**Sorry about all of the POV changes; I just needed to update and I've been writing in snippets. So, you get the story in snippets.  
><strong>

***Marty Glennon is Andorian Ice Princess-AIP's creation. I can't take any credit for him. If you want to read his story, see Hatred Is The Strongest Poison, by the user mentioned above. Again, he is NOT in any way mine.**


	5. After Over A Year, An Exciting Update!

**Author's Note:**

** Did you think I was never gonna update again? Surprise! Since it's been such a long time, I'm going to stumble around a bit. I don't remember what I had planned, and, in my youth, I never thought to write it down. So, I'll be trying to come up with a completely different plan to continue this. Update to let y'all know I didn't die, and I WILL BE FINISHING THIS STORY NEXT CHAPTER! *Yay!***

** I don't own Flashpoint or any of the characters. Correct my spelling and grammar if needed. Spoilers might occur. I haven't seen any of Season Five, so no spoilers for it (that I know of).**

** The choppy writing style was a deliberate choice. Since Kevin finally snapped, that's just the way he thought.**

Kevin paced the floor, using The Animal's gun to scratch his neck. That's what Kevin had come to call the scum that shared Kevin's name; his... hostage. Kevin laughed. Any man who would kill another human being should be called an animal. Any man who even thought about killing another should be punished. Kevin thought about telling that to The Animal, but he wasn't sure when he was speaking aloud or not. It was a... small problem, but he made up for it in wit and intelligence. Where was he? Fish? No, animals in general. Yes! The Animal at his feet. The one who killed-

"_But wait_," said a tiny, tiny voice in Kevin's head, "_doesn't that make YOU an... an animal?"_

"NO!" he yelled.

_"Y-yes. You are being a hypocrite."_

"I am not... a hypocrite..." he muttered. He would prove to the voice he could control his anger.

_ "You're being... A-a-a... a fool!"_

"I... AM NOT... A... FOOL!" Kevin screamed. He threw the gun in his hand across the room, his blinding rage consuming him. It bounced off the wall and clattered on the floor, in front of The Animal. It looked up, fear in it's eyes. Y-yes... fear. That's how he should be treated! Fear! He was unstoppable! His revenge on the beast that killed Trevor, and the sergeant that commanded it, would be absolute.

Kevin looked at the phone in his hand. It said that a call had just ended. Had he made a call? Maybe he had. He had a hard time remembering. Remembering what he had done. He needed his script. Where had it gone? Why wasn't it in his hand? For that matter, why wasn't the gun In his hand? Oh yes, he'd thrown it. Where had it gone? He didn't know.

Kevin turned to his phone. He would call the sergeant. Make him pay. Not only had he killed Hayley's mom, he'd helped kill Trevor! Kevin punched in the numbers. The sergeant must come and watch the death of his minion. That would show him! If Kevin had enough bullets, he might kill the sergeant too! Then he would be unstoppable!

But where was the gun? Why wasn't it in his hand? Oh yes, he'd thrown it. Where had it gone? He didn't know.

Kevin stepped outside the small room, and looked at the huge flatscreen TVs he had set up. Sergeant was inside with Brainy. Baldy, Sand-Man, Big Guns, and Cosby were in teams of two, trotting around his base. His radio indicated that they were still fighting. Good. A house divided against itself can't be a lemonade stand, as the saying went.

He looked at his hand. His phone was... talking.

~~(._.)~~

Spike lowered the phone. He was visibly trembling. Greg placed a hand on his shoulder. Jules had gone outside and joined the group inside of the warehouse, and Ed had demanded that Greg stay far away from the homicidal maniac.

"Good job, buddy. I don't think he even knew he was talking to you." Spike nodded silently, and raised the phone Wordy was on. Wordy was trying to get Greg's attention.

"Greg, can you hear me? Hello? He threw my gun, and I have it now. I also have what Kevin's referred to as his 'script'."

"Nice, Wordy. Try to keep low; Kevin is getting worse by the moment." Greg handed Spike's phone back.

Greg's phone started vibrating in his pocket. He flinched, and grabbed it. Things were getting stickier, and he was afraid Toth was on the other line. When it was a restricted number, he snatched his cap of and rubbed the back of his neck. After the third ring, he answered.

"Hey, Kevin."

Nothing. Not a word.

"Kevin, are you there? Kevin?" Greg was perplexed. Kevin had called him. Why wasn't he answering? There was a click on the other end of the line. Kevin had hung up. Greg lowered the phone, his brows knit in confusion. Only one question surfaced in his mind: Why?

~~(._.)~~

Wordy wiggled towards the open door, not daring to stand up, or even crawl. Even though his glock was safely in it's shoulder-holster, Wordy knew that Kevin was volatile and might have a trick up his sleeve, literally. He peeped around the doorframe, and saw Kevin's massive array of equipment. There was so much to look at, Wordy didn't know where to start! His eyes traveled the expanse, noticing everything, like he was trained to do. Then his gaze landed on a small monitor. A small monitor that showed security camera footage of a bomb. Wordy's eyes widened, and he raised the phone to tell Team One about the unexpected explosive, when he felt a glass beaker breaking over the back of his head. He groaned, and closed his eyes.

** Fun stuffs! Please review to keep me motivated! Thank you! That is all.**


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